


And I'll hold you tight//Baby all through the night…

by flickawhip



Series: Farah Dowling & Her Faeling [3]
Category: Fate: The Winx Saga (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, magical healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29845203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flickawhip/pseuds/flickawhip
Summary: Rosalind's little tricks left their mark... but you know you can ease things for Farah, if she'll only let you in.
Relationships: Farah Dowling/Reader
Series: Farah Dowling & Her Faeling [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192592
Kudos: 26





	And I'll hold you tight//Baby all through the night…

You had not given in to the request easily, the ‘prove it’ had sounded soft. Nervous. She sounded so delicate that you knew the best way to prove your promise was to take your time. So you do. Touch her back gently, feeling the shiver and the slightest bloom of pain in her eyes and mind. She doesn’t want to be afraid, not with you, but she is. She has been for a long time.

“Shhh…”

You silence her before she can apologize, running soft hands over her back, taking your time and letting her relax, the pain fading before she kisses you, softly, requestingly. Farah would never tell you what happened but you had felt the pain and fear in her when Andreas entered. Now though you respond softly, keep it light and tender. She’s scared, you can feel that, but she wants to try. So you let her try, holding her close as you wait for her to relax, running a gentle hand up from her back into her hair, smoothing it free of the same neat curl she always had it in, enjoying the sigh it brings and the way she relaxes as you stroke her hair. 

The door opens and you smile sadly, kiss her one more time and turn to face the person who entered. A guard, someone meant to check on Rosalind. Your cousin. Your… problem. Farah’s hand meets yours when you finally release her back, curling her fingers through your own as you face whatever comes next. 

“She’s…”

You know before he can say and without meaning to you stiffen, you wanted her gone. Just not like this. She had been always so strong that you can’t quite believe that the one push you gave was enough to tip her into ending her life, no matter how much you may have wanted it. 

“Dead.”

You speak softly and Farah looks at you in surprise, you sigh and release her hand. 

“Show me…”

You can feel the bloom of worry then, Farah trying to warn you off but you need to know. To be sure. You pause long enough to kiss her softly. 

“I’ll be alright.”

It’s a soft promise. One you hope is true. Then you follow, staring down at the pile of ash that used to be your cousin. She had done it. Truly. You nod only the once then turn your gaze to the guard.

“Clean this up…”

The order is simple but you can feel his nod without looking as you leave, making your way back through the halls to Farah, trembling just a little before holding a hand out to her. A silent plea. You can’t stay here, in the office, not now. You need somewhere more private, less… risky. You need to be with her. As much as she’s ready to allow. 

Her mind brushes yours again, her fingers wrapping through yours again as she takes your hand, squeezing softly, reassuringly. She hasn’t stopped to put her hair back up and she seems less willing to play pretend, keeping up her guard like usual. Fairies who have been moving through lessons and training stop to look as the two of you pass, then glance away. You can hear the muttering from them but you don’t care. Farah’s mind brushes yours gently, the meeting of minds one that nobody should feel but you have always felt each other’s moods and needs, almost reading each others minds. She is quiet, a softly reassuring presence, not asking for anything or pushing any emotion, just softly reassuring. 

The doors close with a flick of her wrist, the guards and veils falling into place even as she finally pulls you against her, a hand light on your cheek, brushing tears that finally fall. You may have hated her but Rosalind was the last of your bloodline besides you. Now it’s you alone. You move on pure instinct to run your hands around her waist and up onto her back, finally easing under her jacket onto her shirt, still too nervous to ask for anything more. 

“She’s gone…”

You can feel the thickness of your voice, the pain rising and pull back, turning from her as the fire attempts to burn through, forcing it down hard. Then cross to the window, opening it for as long as it takes to breathe, to steady yourself. Her arms curl around you then, her body reassuringly soft and warm even through so many layers, her lips pressed to your shoulder, her mind brushing yours and sending gentle waves of calm. Air and water, a swirl of gentle calm water and a light breeze, blowing the fire into submission. Tempering the flare of pain and anger with such soft trusting love that the fire inside dies out, dropping away until finally you can breathe, feeling safe. Secure. 

“She’s gone.”

Farah’s voice is soft and you stiffen, dreading the reaction in you. There’s always been some insanity in your blood, some swell of dangerous hate and anger, but this time it doesn’t rise and you pause, then consider the reaction. 

“She hurt you..”

You turn to look at Farah then, noting the way she looks down and away, shame and self-hate rippling across her face and mind so suddenly that your eyes burn, lighting with power before you can stop it, pushing your protection through and around her, pushing off memories and letting a swell of love wash through. She stares then, startled enough that you can’t help smiling, kissing her softly at the sigh that escapes her. 

“Show me…”

The request is soft and she shivers, shaking her head. Still not able to meet your eyes at the reminder. You sigh then, but let it go. 

“Okay…”

You can feel her shiver again even as you move to gently unbutton her jacket, slipping it from her. Setting it aside and trailing soft hands around her, your voice soft. 

“Look at me…”

She refuses again and instead curls into you, burying her face into your neck, finally letting all the pain go, years of self-hatred and disgust. Shame at being so weak. Pain that makes her heart ache so much she feels like she could break. You hold her tightly, let her release it all then stiffen at the pictures that brush your mind. 

It’s not what you thought. It’s worse. Rosalind taking joy in breaking Farah down. Body, mind, soul. Making her hate herself, then, when she can no longer hold it back, pushing herself onto the other woman so viciously that even now Farah’s body recoils from the memory. Then it changes. Men. Andreas, so soft and sweet and trying to help. Saul. Never once touching her until he has to. Then another change. Saul. Twisting her under him when she can’t stop him. Andreas approaching her the day you stopped him. Memories of old pain reigniting. Then finally, finally they stop. She is still not looking at you, and you can feel how stiff her posture is. Shame blooming across your mind. 

You take the memories, release her from them in the way most can’t, and release them to the breeze, watching them wash away and let your hand run into her hair, the other still soft on her back, giving her a soft brush of mind to mind and letting your love wash through her again, showing her what she means, what memories you have of her with you. The sweet, trusting kisses. The easy brush of hand against hand. Her trust. Her love. Her protection when you’re the one falling apart. She relaxes slowly and you let her see more. What you want with her. Her. Smiling. Happy. Safe. Loved. Protected. Her teaching the fairies in your care. Your shared care. You at her side, never once anything but gentle. Warm. Kind. 

She’s relaxed enough to accept your touch now and you risk it carefully, gently tucking a hand under her chin, turning her face up just enough to look at you. Letting your lips brush over hers so gently it’s barely a touch. 

“It’s not your fault…”

The words come as a whisper. 

“It was never your fault Farah.”

She believes you. You can feel it. 

“I love you.”

She smiles then, soft but finally sure you mean it. You may have proven how much you love her but you know she needs time. 

“Come here…”

You draw her gently to the bed, stripping off layers as you settle, choosing to leave yourself in your sports bra and boxers, noting her appreciative gaze, and indicating for her to settle with you. As clothed as she wished. 

She comes to you with loose hair and soft eyes, gently setting aside her clothes, sliding against your side in just her underwear, curling against your side with the sweetest sigh. You curl her against you just a little more, gentle arms looping around her as she settles, tucking you both under the covers and kissing her forehead softly. 

“Try to rest, I’m here now.”


End file.
